The reception was at the LA Athletic Club, which ranks high on swank. How can you go wrong with great food, an open bar and pool tables? Jay's toast was charming, as he got all choked up. The couple was happy, the family was happy, the friends were happy... What more could one want?
We didn't linger too long at the reception, as we had to prepare for Richard's Tolkien-esque Mirkwood live game. Rebecca took a nap while I spent an hour or two pulling props out of my ass. I played Lord Surion the Tall, the Black Numenorean commander of one of Sauron's legions of men. Rebecca was one of the Istari, fallen into the service of Sauron.
Unfortunately, the game was highly Richard-dependent. And there is only one of him. For anything to *happen*, Richard had to be there. So everyone except the person who had Richard's attention was left to their own devices. Pretty soon, I had run out of evil small talk.
My favorite moment, naturally enough, is when I had Richard's attention and was travelling off to visit the Lakemen to persuade them to join Sauron's side. The men at the gate let me in, but warned that I might be run out of town with thrown vegetables and such. I let rip, in my loftiest & iciest tone, "Such treatment would not befit my high station." Okay, maybe it's not Shakespeare, but for ex tempore speaking, that's about the high mark of my ability. I think Richard was impressed, since he made especial note of the beads of sweat that broke out on the foreheads of the gate-men.
For the rest of the evening, plenty of slaughter, wizardry and treachery took place. Things got moving when the assault on Dol Guldur came; Richard's attention still had to rove from place to place, but at least everyone was in on the action.
My legion destroyed, my body injured on the field of battle, the fortress of Dol Guldur thrown down... When the dragon arrived, it was clearly time to leave the field and report back to Sauron.
Lots of good costuming and food, and the dragon was splendid.
Sunday was much more laid-back. A little grocery shopping, a little yard-work to work up an appetite, and then we BBQ'ed the tastiest damn tri-tip in all creation.
And in other news that I regard as an obvious win-win situation: Mice fed moderate quantities of alcohol grew extra brain cells, but also showed a preference for alcohol over water.